


Underdog, Just Look at the Mess You Made

by poseys182



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, Crossover, F/M, after 3a, before 3b
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poseys182/pseuds/poseys182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, Thomas and Stiles switch places. Thomas and the Gladers are back in the Maze for another test by WICKED while Beacon Hills is almost a little too peaceful after Scott, Stiles, and Allison sacrifice themselves to the Nemeton.<br/>After Thomas and Stiles fall asleep in their alternate universes, they wake up to find themselves in the wrong one. Stiles must figure a way out of the Glade while Thomas and the pack find a way to get him back as well as save the Gladers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction. I'm trying my hardest. This first chapter is just to explain things. Chapter two should be where everything picks up. More notes at end of chapter.

Three trials. Three trials were what they had to endure to find a sense of freedom. It was treacherous, a never ending battle, and when the Gladers finally found a sense of peace, it was revealed by Brenda that this was only WICKED’s plan all along. There was no safe haven. There was no sense of freedom. They would never live what most would call, a real life. This wasn’t the end of WICKED’s plan, but yet, only the beginning. The sense of freedom they thought they had found was quickly changed and back to a very familiar setting, a setting no one preferred. The Maze.

“Shucking unbelieveable.” Minho nearly screamed out as he and Thomas sat alone while the others got ready for bed. Three nights in a row he had said that and it was starting to itch at Thomas. He had no words to describe exactly how he was feeling. “We just have to redo the Maze again, we can do that.” Thomas said, trying to remain a somewhat positive force, yet his face gave him away in an instant. “Yeah, sure, why the shuck not! Because that was so easy the first time.” Minho replied with his usual mix of sarcasm and snarkiness. “Not exactly.” Came from the shadows as Brenda made her way to the two boys. “WICKED isn’t going to let us do it this easily. They are too smart.” She continued with a small sigh as she grew close to Thomas. “They’ll want you to solve it with different techniques. Meaning, it’s not the same maze. It’s different. They probably set different predators, different codes, different everything. They want to see if you can survive this using different presets without your key members.” She finished, but her tone was filled with compassion as she caught the look from the two boys. Her heart sank for them. She hadn’t intended to sound so monotonous. “Oh gee, that sounds swell.” Minho muttered out, eyeing her with a careful caution. He didn’t hide his untrust towards the girl, it was blatantly obvious, just about every emotion Minho felt. “Well, I guess we’ll have to figure it out-- But maybe, for right now, we should head to bed. Call a group meeting and think about this in the morning.” Thomas suggested, looking between Minho and Brenda for a sign of agreement. They both nodded and soon found their way into the familiar resting area. 

When settling in, the three soon drifted into a sleep. Thomas’ eyes took longer than the others. His mind was running with possibilities, with ideas, and with memories of his last visit in here. It was soon his eyes eventually closed, but not without feeling an odd spark. Something within him was stirring, but he couldn’t tell what. He couldn’t even think as his body became paralyzed by sleep. Whatever it was, it would have to wait until morning. 

\----------------

Beacon Hills had been unusually peaceful since the Alpha Pack. Everything was still. Scott, Stiles, and Allison returned to school as if nothing had happened. Lydia was learning how to control her banshee(ness). The Twins had left. It was almost as if things were normal. If werewolves and banshees could be considered normal. Things had definitely fallen into a constant drift and naturally, it was being accepted by all. 

“I’m kind of nervous for tomorrow. I mean, we haven’t really had a pack meeting with Derek present in, like, six months.” Scott admitted as he watched Stiles flip through the movie channels. Stiles wasn’t particularly worried about tomorrow. At least, he wasn’t up for expressing it. He honestly just wanted to spend his Saturday sleeping. Everything in Beacon Hills was a-okay. It wasn’t as if he was supernatural. He was human. “Scott, I mean, he’s not going to eat us… Right?” Stiles asked, turning his head towards his friend with a comical brow raised. Scott smirked, shaking his head as a slight laughter invaded through him. “No, but what if he’s weird about me being an alpha?” He asked as Stiles started to flip through channels again. “I honestly don’t think Derek Hale is going to act like a child and pout, because you’re basically a superhero.” He said with laughter. It was true. He was much more a superhero than he ever was a supernatural monster. “Don’t be too sure, I’ve seen him pout a few times.” Isaac said with an evil grin as he entered the room with a bowl of popcorn. “Well, this town is getting sort of boring. Maybe a new and restructured Derek, who actually shows emotion, would all be good for us.” Stiles joked. 

They all knew that the peace within Beacon Hills was certainly a change. It was almost a tad frightening as they would spend their nights playing lacrosse and watching movies, not hunting down Alphas or kanimas. What was coming for them? That was the question. They knew it was too good to be true. Maybe that’s why Stiles felt a small tug at his stomach. Maybe that’s why they all felt a small sense of anxiety with Derek coming back and immediately calling a meeting. Maybe their peaceful atmosphere was crumbling around them and they had no idea. Whatever it was, Stiles could feel it in his stomach. He always had a good sense when it came to predicting and now, he was just hoping he was wrong. 

The boys’ conversation drifted into one of comical jokes to one another and soon they fell asleep watching some movie Stiles found on AMC. As their eyes closed and their bodies drifted, Stiles felt a spark within him. It nearly jolted him awake, but his body had been frozen from a sleeping trance. It is a dream, he told himself as his mind simmered. It is a dream. he repeated until his mind grew at ease, falling back into the dangerous coma of sleep he had just entered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas waking up in Beacon Hills. Scott and Isaac use their werewolf senses to realize it, oh wait, isn't Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to do both Stiles and Thomas, but I thought I'd put Thomas' up first and see how you guys enjoyed that. If you think I should include both Stiles and Thomas in one chapter, please leave me a comment!

The nighttime hours soon passed as the new day began. Only Thomas was not aware nor prepared for today. A day in which the world he was surrounded by were clueless of sun flares and cranks. It was the world he had imagined. The real world. The right world. The world in which he and the Gladers belonged.

Shifting subconsciously, Thomas’ face gently burrowed itself into the couch’s corner, hiding itself from the drifting sun beams. It was only then when the boy grew conscious. It took him only a few moments to realize he hadn’t fallen asleep on a couch, nor had he ever been awoken by the reflecting glare of the sun. That would be nearly impossible. With an immediate reaction to that, he sat straight up, his eyes searching his new surroundings. Where was he? His heart began to accelerate as the thoughts of what WICKED had planned for him now were shifting through his mind. Where was he? Where was Minho? Brenda? The Gladers? His heart continued to pound as the worrisome thoughts soon invaded his mind. 

Nearly shaking, Thomas’ eyes continued to shift throughout the room until they fell onto the two sleeping bodies lying on the ground. His tongue grew dry as he watched them. Were they his captors? Did they work for WICKED? They must have. It was the only ethical explanation he could think of.

Shifting from his position, Thomas made the fearful decision of finding a way out. No way was he going to wait for them to wake up, for them to explain what kind of trial he was going through now, no way. After everything he had been through, he knew not to fall for their tricks again. He was done with WICKED and their control over his life. He was done with being a lab rat. 

Cautiously, Thomas placed both feet on the floor, soon lifting himself upwards. He tried to remain as quiet as possible, yet the floor had a small creek about it. It went unnoticed by the two snoring lumps. Whoever his captors were, they weren’t doing a very good job. As his feet continued to move quietly throughout the living room, his eyes were absorbed by the bookshelves, CD racks, and movie shelves. It seemed all too cozy to be apart of WICKED. This seemed to be even dated. The books, the movies, everything about this seemed to be dated. The continuing possibilities of where he was ran throughout his mind until his eyes fell onto a photo. 

Framed, standing on a desk, was a photo of him. His mind nearly shut down as he tried to process what he was seeing. Who was the boy standing next to him with his arm wrapped around his shoulder? Who was this? He picked it up, believing if he looked at it close enough the image of what seemed to be him, would change, would become someone else, but the more he stared the more he realized it was him. Or someone with an identical profile and body frame, grant it the boy in the image was less built, he looked more like a lanky teenager than Thomas ever did. Who was this? Was all the boy could think as he placed the picture down in a quiet manner, his eyes shifting to the left and right before continuing his planned escape. 

“Stiles, are you guys out of milk?” Shouted a voice from another room in the house, causing Thomas’ heart to leap nearly out of his chest. He must have been too focused on that damn photo to notice anyone getting up. Footsteps drew closer, his eyes grew frantic as he searched for an exit. Spotting a door, he tried his best to quietly approach it, but he was stopped mid step.  
“Did you hear me?” The voice asked. Did they think he was, this, Stiles? Was that a new name for the test subjects? Why would he knew if he had milk? Shifting his position, he turned, grasping a timid form of eye contact with the tall boy. He was nearly half a foot taller than he was, but he seemed to be no older than himself. 

“I--” Was the only word that left Thomas’ mouth as his eyes continued to observe the boy. It only took the taller boy a second to realize something was different. It was as if he smelt something and his reaction completely changed gears. It was filled with worry and concern, something he was definitely not expecting to see from someone who worked with WICKED.

“Scott.” The boy shouted in a nervous tone as his eyes looked Thomas up and down, almost as surprised as Thomas was to see him in the home. “Scott, come in here… Now.” He continued to shout, almost with panic, as his eyes never left Thomas. 

“Yeah, everything okay?” The boy who must have been Scott asked as he entered the room. He was the boy in the photo with Thomas-- or Stiles-- whoever it was. He was not nearly as tall as the other boy, but he was about the same age. “Look at St-- Him.” The taller boy said, motioning with his head. They must have realized he wasn’t Stiles, they must have been just as clueless as he was. Unless it was some new game WICKED had created. Whatever it was, he wasn’t falling for it just yet. 

Scott raised a clueless eyebrow until something within him changed as his eyes landed onto Thomas. The eyebrow lowered with concern as if he smelt something, much like the other boy. 

“Whoah. That’s not--”  
“I know.”  
“Then who--”  
“I don’t know.” 

The beginning of Scott’s sentences kept on being finished by the tall boy as both observed him with a sense of concern.

“Who are you?” Asked Scott after a few uncomfortable minutes of staring at one another. 

“Who am I?” Thomas repeated out loud, “Who are you?” he restated as his eyes shifted between the two. “I mean, you obviously don’t work with WICKED, so who are you?” He fearlessly asked, “Unless you do and, well, if you do, just go ahead and tell me this new trial. I’m done with playing around. Don’t leave me in the dark.” He raised his voice as he spoke. The frustration had been built up and, still, he managed to restrain himself from kicking and screaming. Barely.  
The two boys turned to each other, as if they were both sharing the same confusion in unison. 

“WICKED? What the hell is WICKED? Where’s Stiles?” The taller boy finally let out with a sense of snark. Scott looked at him, but not with disapproval. He was just as curious as the other and it was blatantly obvious as his face shared the same amount of concern.

They obviously were just as clueless as he was. Their faces weren’t exactly the best buffers. Thomas knew not to trust them, but he had no other option, but to speak to them at this point. They wouldn’t get anywhere if they continued to withhold information from one another. 

“I have no idea who Stiles is. I have no idea who you are. I’m Thomas.” He spoke, looking more into Scott’s eyes than the other boy’s. They seemed warmer. 

“Okay… That still doesn’t answer my question of where he is? And what WICKED is? And why are you, like, his twin?” The taller boy continued to insist until Scott gave him a look that caused him to simmer. 

“I have no idea where and who Stiles is. I just remember falling asleep in the Glade and waking up here. I don’t have any idea what is going on. I’m just as clueless as you.” Thomas admitted as he watched Scott nod to himself. 

“Stiles is, well, you. He’s your look alike, I guess?” Scott suggested before pulling out a mobile device. “I’m calling Derek. Maybe he knows what’s going on-- Maybe he knows where Stiles is.” He said with a deep sense of concern as he mentioned Stiles’ name. Guessing from the photo and from his great look of worry, they must have been best friends. Much like he and Minho were. 

“Where the hell is he?” Scott muttered before dialing, hoping wherever his friend was it was safe and temporary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you thought! I really appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think! I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
